Tron: Deliverance
by PyroTheWereCat
Summary: Five years after the events of Legacy...Sam has made astounding progress in the real world but has not returned to the Grid. He knows Tron is alive in there somewhere but can't find the courage to look for him. He selects an elite team to enter the Grid and rescue the program but the challenge may be too great. While only a few years to us, the Grid has seen centuries...


_A/N: Adapting this from a roleplay I did that died before anyone set foot in the arcade. I was really disappointed about that but it's given me time to rework the story to a point where I'm happy with it. Enjoy!_

Year 2010

Sam Flynn returned to the real world with the Grid's most precious cargo: the last ISO. Utilizing ENCOM's vast resources, Sam analyzed Quorra's DNA and procured her algorithm. Using this, he was able to hire doctors and scientists from all over the world to create vaccines for various diseases, now made reparable.

Year 2011

ENCOM rapidly became the leading pharmaceutical company in the world from its access to Quorra's algorithm. Terminal diseases were suddenly as treatable as common allergies. Keeping in line with his personal code of conduct, Sam made all vaccines free to those who would not be able to afford them.

After word spread of these miracle vaccines (the source kept secret), ENCOM received a letter from a desperate woman in Melbourne, Australia: her daughter was on death's door and needed the vaccines immediately. Sam, moved by this mother's words, took it upon himself to personally deliver the life-saving medicines to her daughter. The girl recovered fully in under a year.

Year 2014

Disease had finally been all but eradicated. The science team at ENCOM received the Nobel Prize for their staggering contribution to the world. Sam Flynn remained the only person who knew the true source of the miracle.

Year 2016 - _present_

Flight 247 landed in Los Angeles at 1:14 PM, right on schedule. One hundred and forty-nine passengers exited into the terminal from the coach section, many with strained expressions, some rushing to meet friends or family members who waited patiently on the other side. Among these waiting was a man in his thirties with a large sign that read:

 **SHOSHANNA MERRICK**

His piercing blue eyes searched the crowd for the girl, remembering a husk of a human, hooked up to machines in a hospital, bald and emaciated from the illnesses that plagued her. A young woman wearing khaki shorts and a turquoise tank top approached him, dragging her wheeled suitcase behind her. She had chin length dirty blonde hair, deeply suntanned skin, bright green eyes, and freckles on every visible part of her upper body and face. She was thin, but healthy, and had an athletic build. She smiled as she reached him and swept her hair back from her face.

"You know," she said, Australian accent as thick as jam, "No one but my gran calls me that." She extended her right hand for him to shake. "Shanna. Nice to meet ya for real, Mr. Flynn." The man lowered his sign and shook her hand firmly.

"Call me Sam," he responded, "How was your flight?" Shanna shrugged one shoulder and made a noncommittal noise.

"Can't complain. I've jumped out of planes rockier, I guess. So what's the deal with bringing me out here anyway? I mean, whatever it is, I'll do it. I just want to know what." Sam's expression turned stony.

"I can't tell you here. I'll explain everything when we get to the arcade." Shanna laughed.

"Alright, Mister Mysterious. Dunno how an arcade is any less private than here but you're the boss." She made a sweeping gesture with her arm. "Lead on." The pair made their way through the airport to the car, Shanna talking almost nonstop about interesting things she had done since her last email to Sam. Sam listened to the stories as best he could but couldn't help but feel distracted. He was beginning to regret asking her to come out here.

Though it had only been five years since Sam last saw Shanna, she couldn't have been more different. He still remembered the desperate pleas of her mother when ENCOM debuted their vaccines, begging them to save her daughter's life. About a year after this incident, he received a letter from Shanna herself, thanking him for saving her. In this letter she claimed she was in his debt and would do anything to make up for it, even if she was paying him back for the rest of her life. He kept in touch with the outspoken girl, insisting she didn't owe him anything. She never listened, however, which in turn proved helpful in his current endeavor.

"If you do something important for me, maybe something dangerous, I'll consider your debt repaid in full."

Sam and Shanna pulled to a stop outside of Flynn's Arcade, so long out of business the sign had been removed. All that remained was the outline of the letters on the brick wall of the street corner. Shanna exited the car and stretched her arms above her head.

"Okay, we're here at the arcade," she said, "Completely abandoned by the looks of it." She twisted around, grinning at Sam. "You didn't save my life all those years ago to bring me here and murder me, did you?" She laughed at her own joke and walked to the front door, a high bounce in her step. Sam gave a half-hearted chuckle as he got out of the car and followed her, key in hand to unlock the arcade's door.

"It sure sounds creepy but we're going to the basement," he said.

"Good thing I trust you then, huh?" She gave a playful punch to his arm and he was surprised by how much that light a tap hurt. "That and I've been taking MMA classes since I got out of the hospital."

"You'll need that. Where you're going, you might have no choice but to fight." Shanna laughed again but faltered. She wasn't sure if he was kidding or not. Sam unlocked the door and let her in first, locking it again after he followed. When Shanna gave him a quizzical look he explained,

"My father's friend Alan likes to stop by sometimes. He knows I've been coming here the past couple years." Shanna pretended to understand but this confused her further. She looked around at the dusty, plastic covered games looming in the shadows like tombstones.

"Don't do much on this floor, huh?" she said as Sam flipped the breakers to bring light and life to the decaying room, "Everything in the basement?" Sam nodded and walked past her, heading straight for the TRON machine. Shanna stood for a moment observing her surroundings. Though it seemed like a long abandoned arcade she felt excited, like there was a sort of energy radiating from the very walls. She heard a metallic creaking noise and turned her attention to what Sam was doing. To her surprise, the TRON game had been rigged to move, revealing the door to the basement.

"Now it really looks like you've got a murder dungeon," she said.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'll go down first," Sam replied, pushing open the narrow door and starting down the staircase. Shanna shrugged and followed without hesitation. A hidden basement in an abandoned building didn't scare her. In fact, nothing seemed to scare her anymore after her recovery.

"It's about time!" a voice griped from the small basement room once Sam reached the bottom of the stairs, "We were starting to think you'd never get back!"

"Yeah, the airport's not _that_ far from here," another added. Shanna entered the room to see three other people sitting on folding chairs. This room was shockingly clean compared to the upstairs, lived-in and without a speck of dust. On one end there stood a massive tablet with a chair tucked under it, boards with various pictures, designs, and notes tacked to them. On the other end, a strange looking device that reminded Shanna of a giant laser pointer with fan blades. Sam cleared his throat and gestured toward the people seated.

"Shanna, meet Vasco," an angular man in his thirties or forties with stiff black hair and rich brown skin, "Tonya," a curvy woman, perhaps Shanna's age or younger, with her long, twisted black hair tied back in a high ponytail, "and Max," a pale, stocky man, maybe thirty, who had rosacea and very neat blond hair, "They're going in with you."

"You haven't told us where we're going yet," Vasco reminded Sam, who grimaced.

"I thought it might be easier to explain to all of you at once," he said, "Plus, this is the place where it all started, technically." He pulled out the chair from under the giant tablet and offered it to Shanna, who politely declined.

"Been sitting too long, y'know?" she said. Sam nodded and took the seat himself. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He stared blankly at the floor for several moments, trying to find the right words. The four visitors watched him curiously, Max's leg bouncing in agitation, shivers of anticipation coursing through Shanna's spine. The only sound came from the games upstairs, echoing eerily against the brick walls. Sam took a breath and straightened his back, ready to speak.

"What I'm about to tell you is going to sound crazy," he said, "Completely off the wall. But I need you to hear me out before you say anything." This was it. He was finally going to tell his story. His jaw tensed, knowing the reaction of his audience before the words were out.

"I'm going to tell you about the Grid...about Tron."

 _A/N: Ugh, I couldn't figure out how to close this chapter. I guess it's a good thing and a bad thing at the same time that I can't stop writing this story._


End file.
